There's Always Next Year
by Jet Set Radio Yoyo
Summary: Every year America sends England in invitation in hopes that he will come to his birthday, but England never comes. However, America never stops hoping that someday England will come to his birthday. Even if England doesn't come this year America can just try again next year… America X England, oneshot


**There's Always Next Year**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

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"And done!"

America sat at his desk and smiled as he placed the last envelope down on his desk. America had woken up early just so that he could make everyone's invention to his birthday party. Sure, he could have someone else do it for him, but America didn't want to bother anyone with this. Also, he liked decorating everyone's invitations and envelopes. Childish as it may be America enjoyed plastering festive Fourth of July stickers on anything that he could find and birthday invitations were the perfect candidates for stickers.

America placed the envelope on top of the others. America let out a small sigh as he looked down at his desk. He had finished all but one invitation, but this last invitation was the hardest one to make. This invitation was for the green eyed nation known as England. America blushed slightly at the mere thought of the stubborn English man. It was no small secret that America was in love with England. America had been in love with England for as long as he could remember, but England didn't know about America's crush on him.

Heck, America didn't know how England felt about him. After the Revolutionary War there has always been this gap between the two of them. Granted things have been getting better between the two nations, but America didn't know if they were at that point where America could confess his love and not get yelled at. France kept reassuring America that England did love him, but it would take some time for the English nation to admit it to himself much less to America. America could only hope that France was right and England really did love him. America shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts.

"Baby steps, America." America murmured to himself as he pulled a pen out of his Batman pencil cup.

England had yet to attend his birthday much less show any indication that he loves America. He needed to work on closing up that gap between him the blond haired Brit first. If England could bring himself to come to America's birthday then maybe he could finally confess his love toward the blond nation. After all if England would actually show up then maybe that meant that the pain had dulled enough and the gap was small enough that America could show England just how much he really cared for him. America grabbed a sheet of stationery paper and started writing.

_Dear England_

America paused for a few seconds before he erased the dear part of the letter.

_England_

"That sounds too impersonal…" America grumbled. He quickly rewrote the word dear before he continued to write the letter.

_Guess what? My birthday is coming up soon and you're invited! I'm going to have a huge barbecue and there will be fireworks! You like fireworks, right?_

America didn't actually know if England liked fireworks or not. England was never a big fan of things that made loud noises. Which was sort of odd because England had no problem listening to his music at full blast when he thought no one was around. The only reason why America knew about it was mostly due to the fact that he liked to drop by the British nation's house for random spur of the moment visits.

Lord only knows how many times America had caught the nation singing along with his music while he cleaned his house. Not that America was complaining about it. England was absolutely adorable when he danced about the house singing along to whatever song was currently blasting over his radio. America smiled a little as the memory of seeing England softly singing along to a song jumped to his mind, but he shook the memory out of his head almost as soon as it had popped up. He was getting distracted which something he really didn't need right now. He had an invitation to write after all. America tapped his pen against the paper as he thought of what he should write. After thinking for a few seconds the American started to write again.

_Everyone will be at the party. It will be a whole lot of fun and you should definitely come. The party will start at four. Make sure you come, and bring a present with you!_

_Signed, the hero America_

America read over what he wrote and frowned a little. It was short, but he had refrained from calling England an old man and the invitation wasn't all that different from the rest of the invitations that he had written. However, that was the whole entire problem. England didn't like the Fourth of July and America knew it. America might have been a little oblivious sometimes, but he wasn't an idiot. It was easy to see that England became quite a bit more irritable during the month of July. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out just what it was about that month that made him irritable.

America bit his lip and stared at the invitation for a few seconds before he sighed and started to crumple the paper up. Once the paper was a crumpled up ball America tossed it over his shoulder and pulled out a new sheet of paper. He was aware of the fact that the paper ball didn't land anywhere near the trashcan, but he didn't care about that.

"I can't write this letter like the other invitations. He would just throw it away." America murmured to himself.

The letter had seemed safe enough, but the Fourth of July had always been a bitter subject for the English nation and it was something that should be treated with care. Starting a letter by happily announcing that his birthday and he was having a huge party might not be the best idea. England might assume that he was trying to rub the whole thing in his face or something. Of course that wasn't the case and while his birthday was a celebration of him becoming a free nation America didn't celebrate his birthday to rub the whole thing into England's face. America started tapping his pen against the desk as he stared at the paper.

'_Maybe I should ask France how I should write this….' _America thought.

Of course he shot that idea down as soon as he thought of it. France was supportive of America's love for England, but the man would probably tease him a little if he asked how to write a good invitation. It would be lighthearted teasing, but he really didn't want to deal with any teasing right now lighthearted or not. He sighed, but as he stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him an idea started to form in his mind. He knew how he wanted to write this letter now, and after thinking about how he should go about writing it for a few seconds America finally started to write.

_Dear England,_

_They say that you should spend your birthday with people that you care about and I agree with that thought. I care about you and I want you to be at my party. You don't have to bring a present just you being there at my party will be enough. You can come in late or early it doesn't matter. I'll be happy if you show up so please come._

_Sincerely,_

_America_

The nation wrote the time of when the party would start and when it would end along with any other information that England would need before he read over what he wrote. It was still short, but this time the letter was honest. It was also a little uncharacteristic of him. There were no exclamation points dotting the paper, no mentions of heroes or being a hero, and the fact that he wasn't mentioning any of the cool stuff that he would have at his party was strange. However, it was honest and written right on that simple piece of paper was his only wish.

"Heroes should be honest sometimes, right?" America said to himself.

America carefully slid the invitation into a crisp clean white envelop before he closed it up and put a stamp on it. America had to stop himself from putting any stickers on it. As much as he loved stickers he was pretty sure England would not appreciate having a bunch of stickers from his least favorite day plastered all over his mail. Once he had put all of the information that he need onto the envelop he gathered up all of the invitations and started to make his way out to his mailbox. By the time he made it outside he was pretty much skipping to the mailbox and a small grin had appeared on his face. He had gotten the hard part of writing England's invitation out of the way and the American couldn't help but feel excited.

Maybe this time England will come to his birthday. Maybe this time America will be able to watch the fireworks with everyone that he cares about. He was feeling hopeful, but as he put the invitations into the mailbox a little voice in the back of his head told him he was getting excited over nothing.

'_England's not going to come to your birthday.' _The little voice in his head grumbled. '_He never comes to your birthday.' _

"He'll come to my birthday." America said to himself as he put the red flag of the mailbox up.

It was at this moment that America realized that he was essentially talking to himself. Of course when he realized this he started to think about how England would always talk to thin air. America tried to shove that thought out of his brain. He really needed to think of something else. America quickly went back into his house and dragged out his Marvel movie collection out.

If anything could distract him from his thoughts of the green eyed nation it would be superhero movies. America popped the Captain America: The First Avenger movie into his DVD player and watched that. For a while the movie kept him distracted and the little negative voice in the back of his head shut up. However, when Peggy the British officer, Captain America's love interest, and woman who reminded him a bit too much about England started showing up thoughts of England started to wash over him and that pessimistic voice in his head that he could usually ignore was telling him that he was getting his hopes for nothing. So as thoughts about England raced through his head America promptly decided that he should have chosen to watch a Spider-Man movie instead….

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_**Don't think about it.**_

That was the sentence that England would chant to himself on and off during the month of July. Sometimes he would say it in his head, and sometimes he would say it out loud to himself. It was one of the easiest things that he could do, but at the same time it was probably one of the hardest things that he could possibly do. It was easy because England had become a master at keeping himself distracted. He had paperwork to do, a garden to take care of, books to read, embroidery projects that he had to finish, and about a hundred other things that he could do to keep himself busy. England had years of practice at figuring out the best ways to keep himself distracted, and he had gotten pretty good at it.

However, at the same time not thinking about it was the hardest thing to do. England could keep himself from reminding himself about his bittersweet memories easily enough. That wasn't the problem. No, the problem came from the fact that if England saw or heard anything that reminded him of everything that he wanted to forget he would break down. If he didn't distract himself fast enough he would start spiraling, and once he started spiraling there was no stopping until he got everything out of his system. Fortunately, this only happened in July. During the rest of the year he would just smile bitterly whenever old memories that should stay in the past surfaced before he promptly shoved those thoughts back into the dark recesses of his mind from which they came.

Luckily, this year he was actually doing pretty well. He got all of his paperwork done for this month, and so far he had been able to keep himself from thinking about America. However, the peace wasn't meant to last. The memories were bound to wash over him eventually and the trigger that set him off this year was an envelope signed by America himself. He didn't even notice the letter at first when he had gone out to get his mail. He should have remembered that it would come eventually. He should have been prepared for it.

However, he didn't prepare for it and now he was standing in his living room holding the accursed invitation that America sent to him every year. England knew what it was the second he saw it. His birthday invitations were the only actual mail that America sent out. Any other time America needed to tell someone something he would call them or send an email. England stared at the letter his grip on the paper was so tight that it caused the paper to start to crumple.

"Why does he keep sending me these damn invitations?!" England yelled out.

Silence was his only answer and that didn't surprise the nation very much. His mythical friends usually gave him plenty of space during the first half of July. The only one in the room was Flying Mint Bunny, and he was just unfortunate enough to be in the room when England discovered that he had gotten his yearly invitation. The rabbit's ears flattened against his head upon hearing England yell, but he didn't say anything. It was best to just let England get this out of his system. The nation as pacing about the room now, but his eyes never left the letter.

"He knows I can't stand his birthday." England ranted. "He knows what his birthday makes me think of."

The memory of that rainy day was flashing through his mind, and America's final words to him were play over and over again in his head like a broken record.

_**You used to be so great….**_

England could feel tears starting to build up, but he quickly blinked them away.

"He hates me doesn't he?" England said out loud.

Flying Mint Bunny didn't say a word, but he desperately wished he could tell the man that America didn't hate him. He had said that so many times before in the past, but the nation never believed him and eventually the rabbit stopped trying. England was convinced that the American hated him, and no amount of words from the rabbit would do any good.

"Why else would he send me these invitations to his damn birthday?"

The nation scowled as he said "He's trying to rub in my face that he's better off without me."

The way he said that made it sound like it was some sort of obvious fact that everyone knew. England's heart started to ache as he thought of how the boy that he cared so much about must hate him so damn much. Every year America would throw bigger and bigger parties to celebrate his birthday, and practically the whole world would attend the parties and celebrate right along with him. It hurt to think that the reason why he would celebrate the day with such energy was due partially to the fact that he was essentially celebrating the fact that he had cut all emotional ties with England and he didn't have to deal with the English nation anymore. That thought stung more than it had any right to.

It didn't help that nothing could make the pain go away. His happier memories of America were bittersweet at the best of times, but right now they were downright painful. Any attempt to remember the days when America was happy to see him and never wanted him to leave were futile. The memory of that rainy day wasn't leaving, and the image of an angry America with cold eyes and a harsh frown was permanently imprinted in his brain. America's tired emotionless voice constantly repeated that hated sentence in his head.

_**You used to be so great… **_

England's grip on the letter tightened and without even thinking he started to tear the letter in half. Without putting much thought into at all the nation proceeded to rip the letter up. He ripped the paper up into tiny pieces and he didn't stop until the invitation was nothing but tiny pieces of confetti on the floor. It was mindless destruction at its best fueled mostly by his pain and anger. However, while destroying the invitation had helped him get some of his anger out it did nothing to get rid of the hurt the nation felt. It didn't get rid of his painful memories. It also didn't get rid of the rather depressing thought that England was pretty sure that America secretly hated him.

Why else would he remind him of that stormy day year after year? The American must have known how much it hurt him. It hurt to think that the boy that he had cared about probably hated him. Hell, even after all this time England still cared about him. He still cared about that beautiful boy with the sky blue eyes and dirty blond hair. He cared about the cheerful boy with a hero obsession. He would probably always care about the boy right up to the day he died. However, he knew that the boy was more than happy to have him out of his life and that depressed him to no end. The English nation sighed sadly as he stared down at the ripped up letter. He just felt tired now and the dull aching of his heart while painful was a familiar one.

"I need a drink." The nation murmured to himself as he made his way toward the kitchen so that he could grab a bottle of alcohol.

From the corner of his eye he could see Flying Mint Bunny looking rather displeased at hearing that. The little green rabbit never liked it when the nation drank himself into oblivion, but the nation couldn't bring himself to care. The alcohol helped to dull the pain, and right now numbing the pain was all that really mattered…..

* * *

The Fourth of July party was in full swing, and everyone was having fun. America was usually pretty good at throwing parties, but more importantly America's birthday party was one of the few events were the nations could get together to catch up on things and just have fun. For that one day the nations could get together and have fun. They didn't need to worry about paperwork, their bosses, or trying to figure out how to stop global warming. They could just hang out and have fun. Canada had once compared the thing to a neighborhood party for nations, and honestly that was a pretty good way to describe it. Presents were opened first, and the nations would all sing the happy birthday in their own native languages.

After that the nations were free to mingle, swim in America's pool, and eat the food that had just come off of the grill. A few cakes were set up on the tables along with the rest of the food, and if anyone wanted a piece they were free to take it. America didn't really do the whole blow out the candle a make a wish thing anymore. Partially it was because he just wanted to get to the whole eating the cake thing already. Another reason why he didn't do it was because he really didn't see the point in doing it anymore. No amount of birthday candles were going to grant his wishes, and they sure as hell weren't going to make England magically start coming to his birthday parties. Most people didn't know about the second reason why he didn't do birthday candles, but that was fine they didn't need to know about it.

As the party went one America spent all of his time just wondering around jumping into (and out of) the different conversations that were going on or he would join in on the party games that some of the nations were playing. It was almost like the nation was constantly on the move. One minute he would be talking about anime with Japan and Prussia, and the next minute he would be playing Marco Polo with the Nordic nations. However, the whole time America was drifting from one conversation to another he was keeping an eye out for England. He kept hoping that he would see the green eyed nation's face somewhere in the large crowed of nations. He keeps hoping that he'll hear a familiar British voice call out to him over the loud chattering of people. However, as it grew later and later America's hope started to dwindle.

Eventually the time to watch fireworks had come, and the not completely unexpected feeling of disappointment started to well up inside him. England wasn't coming this year. The disappointment that yet again the English nation failed to come made the nation want to frown, but he resisted the urge to show the world how he really felt. Instead he smiled the fakest looking grin that a person could wear and made his way over to the blanket that Canada had laid down on the ground. France was already sitting next to the Canadian nation, and by the time America plopped down onto the blanket next to France the fireworks were already going off. France just looked at the American nation and gave him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry that Angleterre didn't come this year."

"It's alright…." America said just loudly enough that he could be heard over the booming of the fireworks.

France frowned and was about to say that it wasn't alright, but he fell silent when America turned to look at him. America just gave the French nation a heartbreaking smile and he said the one sentence that he had always said to himself and to France at the end of every Fourth of July celebration.

"There's always next year….."

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**Well, that's the end of this oneshot. I have been working on this for what feels like forever now. I had always meant to put it up on the Fourth of July, but I'm lazy and before I knew it the day would pass me by. Then I would start to work on other things, and this oneshot of mine would be ignored again. I finally decided to sit down and actually finish this thing. Anyway, please review and don't flame. **


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